


the dumbass scarf saved the day

by edgaristheoneinthehole



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AO3 1 Million, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Demons, M/M, Suicide Attempt, also because why the hell not, and King!Monty, its more like one scene of imagined violence, king!au, theres also Guild master!Burnie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 16:32:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgaristheoneinthehole/pseuds/edgaristheoneinthehole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They weren't officially named the Achievement Hunters but hell if Geoff would be in a group that was just called Part Of Rooster Teeth. Fuck that, okay? Just. No.</p><p>Alternative title: How Geoff and his boys stopped The Mad King, who maybe wasn't so mad after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the dumbass scarf saved the day

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [This prompt](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/36186) by Milkteaghost. 



> wasnt going to post this on Tumblr much less on AO3 but its 10000+ and i would feel bad considering how much time i spent on it. edgaristheoneinthehole wasnt taken shame on you ah fandom, like, i literally just thought to myself: hm, i need a new ao3 name because my last one was lame and it was free? which i thought it wouldnt be???

They weren't officially named the Achievement Hunters but hell if Geoff would be in a group that was just called Part Of Rooster Teeth. Fuck that, okay? Just. No.

As an added bonus, it made getting jobs easier, with an official name the rumours would spread faster and no one would think some other team of Rooster Teeth was as awesome as Geoff's accidentally. Which it was. Awesome, he meant.

Okay, so the two younger members were a bit over the top and didn't know when to stop and to be quiet and, sure, Geoff was really _done_ with them at times but they were still an awesome team.

That day just happened to be a day where Geoff was fucking done. Ray and Michael wouldn't stop fighting over Ray's stupid fake neon rose, Jack was spacing out for hours at a time, Geoff had broken an unopened beer bottle and the inn they stayed at was a piece of shit.

Okay, that last one was a lie, the inn was actually pretty all right; clean, with satisfactory food as well as alcohol and the people working there weren't total assholes.

So, after hearing another crash from room to his and Jack's left, where Ray and Michael stayed, he did what anyone would do; he went out for a walk to calm himself.

(There was a forest nearby, and Geoff couldn't help but think of how all horror stories he'd heard as a child started in the woods.

But he was a goddamned adult, who donned armour, handled swords as a part of his job and had _killed_ a fucking _dragon_ , like hell he was letting a dim forest scare him away. Really, he should have horror stories about him, not some dumb _forest_.)

* * *

The woods, while gloomy as dicks, weren't dark enough so Geoff wouldn't see shit and he was grateful for that. _Somewhat._

It was hard to be grateful when he knew he was as lost as a fucking kid who strayed from their parents at a carnival, nice but also really crappy.

To be honest, he didn't even know _how_ he'd gotten lost. He followed a road for what he assumed was around half an hour, like hell he knew, it was too dark to see the sky. And then suddenly, _bam!_ , he was in the middle of the fucking forest and he didn't see the beaten path anywhere.

So, yeah, shitty day got shittier.

It had just gotten to the point where Geoff was ready to just resort to screaming random names towards the sky in hopes that someone would mistake him for their lost friend when he stumbled and fell head first.

 _Of course_ he did.

Goddamn it.

The day officially sucked dick.

And while Geoff nursed his hand, definitely not broken and probably not sprained, he heard a wheezing sound. For a second Geoff assumed it was his, but he faintly heard the sound of coughing and realised that, yep, he didn't make that.

And, holy shit, he wasn't alone in the woods. That was more reassuring than scary considering the other was hurt.

Unless... unless a monster was trying to make him relax and _then_ eat him.

Carefully standing up, a hand lightly touching his weapon, Geoff stealthy tip-toed (Michael would laugh at him for that attempt) towards the wheezing sound and came upon a sight that made his breath stutter.

A man in red was using an old tree stump as a way to keep himself from topping over. Well, he said red, more like a man covered in blood. Not head to toe, thankfully, but his clothing was more red than the green Geoff assumed he wore before, according the small specks of the colour and, as an added fact, his scarf was entirely green, not a speck of any other colour. Other than that, there was blood in his hair and on his gloves and that was all.

Well, to be honest, the gloves were just red, they might have been red originally, hell if Geoff knew.

The only thing he knew was that a stranger was covered in blood and the thought of a demon playing human flew from his head while he skittered to a halt next to the man. He was pretty certain skin broke on his knees (one fucking day when he didn't wear armour and that happened) but that didn't matter, not then. Not with a person, an archer according to the bow and quiver a few feet away to him, fucking dying, if not dead already.

While Geoff was pretty certain the man was already dead from blood loss, he checked anyway and was glad to note that the archer was just bleeding from one spot and most of the blood was not his. Though that pegged the question of whose blood it was then, Geoff ignored it and focused on the cut on the stranger's side, a little above his waist.

Now, Geoff wasn't a healer. Not by a long shot, but he had been a knight once upon a time, way before Rooster Teeth came along. Thankfully, they taught first aid and what to do if healing was needed on the battlefield.

While mentally thanking the training he once hated to attend and often fell asleep in, he removed the shirt around the area of the cut, at first gently before he thought of how stupid that was because a man was fucking _dying_ and he couldn't spend time dilly-dallying like he was a teenager first masturbating, the wet fabric hard to move due to the stickiness but stayed near the man's torso when Geoff rolled it there.

Thankfully, the man was already sitting so the wound was elevated and Geoff didn't have to deal with that.

Glancing around the surrounding area, trying not to panic from the lack of information he remembered, Geoff noticed what looked like an unopened bottle of water next to the bow. Quickly standing up and getting the bottle, after confirming it was unopened, Geoff hummed a tune under his breath, trying to concentrate on what he _did_ recall, trying to find anything clean to stop the blood flow. After not discovering anything, Geoff was ready to just rip open his own shirt, though it was still dirty from his fall, it was better than nothing, when he remembered the scarf that the man wore. It was still as green as when Geoff first saw it and better than nothing.

Promptly grabbing the garment, Geoff dumped most of the water from the bottle on it and just blinked when he realised it didn't get wet. Sighing, Geoff just decided he didn't care and that a magical object or not, it was the cleanest object there, and crouched down next to the man, putting pressure on the wound with it, while the scarf remained completely spotless.

Around fifteen minutes continued that way, with Geoff just staring at a completely pristine scarf while the man bled. Probably. Hell if Geoff knew, the scarf didn't change colour.

When Geoff was _certain_ seventeen minutes had passed, just to be sure, he gently moved the scarf away and sighed with relief when it looked like the blood stopped flowing. He wasn't exactly sure about that too though, to be honest. The skin around the wound was bloody but he was about seventy percent sure.

Grabbing the water bottle, a small amount of water still inside, slowly tilting the bottle, water fell on the stranger's skin and the older man used the scarf to clean it, glad that the wound didn't reopen.

Lastly, Geoff stared at the scarf for a moment, shrugged and used it as a bandage, a shitty one, of course, the retired knight wouldn’t know if the wound reopened, but it was the cleanest thing there and Geoff actually liked his shirt and it wasn't like he could use the archer's as his were bloodstained.

With that done, Geoff grinned at his work, glad he hadn't completely ignored the lessons of healing. The grin faded when he noticed that the archer was shivering and a quick look at the sky (he actually saw a portion of the sky!) the man finally realised that it was dark outside.

Geoff was lost in the woods and the other man's shirt was wet and he was going to get a cold along with a wound. It would probably scar too.

Groaning, Geoff moved the archer's hands above his head and tried to get the wet shirt off at the same time.

It was the hardest thing he'd done in his life. And he'd fucking fought a _dragon_.

After what felt like forever, the shirt was off and Geoff landed on his ass, for the first time noticing that his pants were in fact broken and the skin of his knee had already begun to scab over.

He stayed there for what was probably half an hour, cursing himself for not wearing his armour, shivering, until a groan alerted him of the fact that his companion was awake. About fucking time.

“So you have a name?” he asked as the man's eyes opened.

“Wh-What?” the Brit (definitely a Brit, with his accent) croaked out.

“What is you name?” Geoff repeated, trying to be calm but really, the day had sucked dicks, he didn't have the patience for anything that wasn't alcoholic.

“Ga-” the man coughed and Geoff wondered if the archer noticed Geoff's hands automatically move towards him in an effort to help before he forced them down, “I'm Gavin.”

“Great, Gavin, I'm Geoff. We're lost in the woods and it's night time. You better be a native. I did not risk daylight to help you for nothing,” really the thought of getting out hadn't even entered his mind for a while but Gavin didn't need to know that.

“What?” the other man blinked in confusion and tilted his head to the side, Geoff thought he looked like a dog, “why am I in the forest?”

“How the fuck should I know.”

“The last thing I remember is-” Gavin paused, and his face fell, Geoff hadn't even noticed the smile on his face until it left, “oh.”

“Oh?” Geoff prompted, somewhat curious.

“It's nothing, Geoff!” the archer grinned, though the older man was pretty certain it was fake, “so you patched me up, yeah? Though I still feel a bit dicky.”

“I'm sure you're an asshole, don't need to tell it to me,” Geoff laughed, trying not to fall over from exhaustion, he hadn't noticed how tired he was until then, knowing that the other man was safe, however, made him relax and stopped his worrying enough to realise that fact.

Gavin didn't even look confused before exclaiming: “It means sickly!”

“Yeah, sure.”

In the silence that followed, Gavin looked down at his chest (holy shit was it hairy, how did Geoff not notice before), and tugged his shirt, dry but stiff from the blood, on while he slowly moved towards his bow and quiver, wincing every now and then before he spoke.

“Geoff?”

“Is it just me or is it a bit parky here?” Gavin turned towards Geoff with a frown, putting on his quiver, “should we not leave?”

“Yeah, sure, as long as you learn to speak English,” but Geoff didn't even hesitate, standing up. The British archer just grinned and they started to move in a random direction Geoff thought might have been correct.

* * *

It took about two hours to get out of that stupid forest. Well, two hours with breaks. By the time they got out, the town was completely dark and Gavin kept gritting his teeth from the pain, Geoff wished he had painkillers to give the poor guy.

Just as they were in front of the inn Geoff was staying at with the rest of the Hunters, Gavin laughed: “I guess this is goodbye? It's been ace. Thank you.”

“What do you mean?” Geoff turned towards the younger man, a concerned tone slipping into his words, “you're in no condition to leave. Where would you go anyway?”

Gavin only shrugged: “Anywhere.”

What was Geoff supposed to do? Force a man to stay with him and the Hunters against his will? But the thought of just letting Gavin go with his injury was a horrible one, the guy wouldn't probably even take breaks and just continue walking, the last two hours had taught Geoff that much. 

So he opened his mouth and said something he never thought he would: “You can join us.”

At Gavin's expression, startled mostly, he continued: “If only for a little while. You could leave as soon as you feel better. You need actual bandages and Jack's way better at things like that than I am and, well-”

Geoff paused there, not certain where he was going with his whole speech but Gavin grinned like he was given the best thing in the world and, just like that, Gavin joined the Achievement Hunters.

(Well, not officially, but apparently Burnie knew Gavin from somewhere and everything Gavin needed to join was done before Gavin's injury even healed. It scarred, just like Geoff thought it would and Gavin refused to look at it.)

* * *

Gavin's official orientation was really just Burnie and Gavin locking themselves inside Burnie's office and getting “utterly plastered”, according to Gavin. Ray was forever certain he heard them bang. Michael agreed, despite being drunk off his ass at the time and not even in listening distance, just because it was fun to see Gavin try to explain that, _no, they were just friends_. To which Ray would agree and reply, _with benefits._ Michael just found Gavin's frustration with the whole subject hilarious.

* * *

The Hunters didn't often go on missions without all of their members but it was silly to force five men to go on a mission one of them could finish on their own.

So, really, it was only because it was Gavin's first mission without all of his team that allowed Michael to join him, after he argued with Geoff for an hour on which of them should go. He won, of course.

Who the fuck would say no to Gavin's cheer of " _Team Nice Dynamite!"_ when Geoff told the younger man he had a choice. Not Geoff, that was for certain. He caved faster than someone Kara scared half to death because they dared to argue with her. There was a reason she was the best at what she did, the woman was terrifying when she needed to be.

Michael and Gavin, both decked in their usual garb, set off on Saturday, thinking they would be back in about a week, at most.

That happened two weeks before, Gavin had estimated what Michael assumed was a few hours ago, feeling light-headed. Gavin, like he had a fucking Michael-felt-dizzy _ting!_ (it would say obnoxious shit too, something stupid like: “The asshole feels faint, sweep him off his feet!” and it would have the most annoying bell noise, Michael just knew) in his head, immediately turned towards Michael with a concerned look on his face.

Now, Michael was a patient guy, well, not really, but he was pretty patient. After two weeks of getting lost in a fucking mirror maze, not knowing how he fucking got into a maze, dealing with Gavin's chatter, not dealing with his thoughts of how odd it was that he didn't eat or sleep (just walked and walked and walked and, yeah, how could he forget, fucking _walked_!?) and after two weeks of not having yelled at anything his team-mates did or said, he had to pretty patient to do that, right?

Well, whatever the answer was, he didn't care, but he was just so fucking sick of the same scenery and of seeing Gavin's dumbass face and his own stupid face whenever he turned to look anywhere and even if he didn't. And it was only natural that two weeks worth of rage got bobbled inside him with no way to get out.

But Michael actually liked Gavin, didn't want the asshole (and believe Michael, he _was_ an asshole) to get hurt but he was so _mad_ and needed to punch something so he did the first thing that came into his mind, he punched the mirror, not expecting it to actually break. Slowly, very slowly, the mirrors cracked and the shards were almost like ash flying in the wind. Not that Michael registered much, his arm suddenly feeling like all of the shards that disappeared were inside his hand, mostly around his bloody knuckles.

Forcing away the tears of pain, damn it, he was not crying on a fucking mission, when he had a chance of getting revenge, maybe later, at a time his head felt better and he didn't feel like falling apart, Michael turned his head towards Gavin, who looked laughable with his wide eyes and opened mouth. So Michael laughed, but it faded after he realised it came out sounding like a sob.

“Gavin,” he murmured instead, glad when his voice didn't sound like he was on the brink of tears, “I might need you to find the son of a bitch who did this to us alone.”

Gavin's mouth closed and he closed his eyes for a second, breathing, before they opened and he said the stupidest thing in the world, Michael thought: “I won't.”

“No, no, no, you're taking this bitch down. This hurts like shit, Gav, I'm not letting this piece of unwashed cunt cheese get away.”

Gav had the _fucking audacity_ to laugh and Michael decided that Gavin threw away all of his best friend privileges in that moment: “They're right here, Michael. We won't have to look for them.”

Oh.

Maybe Gavin could keep his best friend privileges after all.

“You sure?” despite the words, Michael still unsheathed his sword, the one he got his 'professional' name from, Mogar. It was funny actually, how many people thought he talked in third-person when he was just referring to his sword. The grip he had on his sword was uncomfortable though, with his right hand hurting like a fucking Creeper blew it up, so he had to change the grip to his left hand, which he wasn't all that great at. Thankfully Gav had his bow and the knife he carried around out of some sort of weird respect, for whom, Michael didn't ask.

Gavin wouldn't stop staring in front of him so Michael shrugged, accepting that either he was in thought or staring the direction of the son of a bitch who did that to them, and stared at the spot too.

Suddenly Gavin spoke and was it just Michael or was the air around Gavin like ten degrees higher?

“Completely certain.”

Just as suddenly as Gavin had spoken, the shrubbery that they'd been staring at was an inferno, something that Michael jumped at: “Arsehole.”

“Holy fuck!” Michael exclaimed, eyes wide, “what the fuck, Gav!”

Gavin turned to his best friend, eyes darker than normal, and smiled, somehow putting Michael at ease with just that: “They'll live, a mage strong enough to trap both of us in an illusion that only broke because of your rage, and nothing else, is a smart enough mage to know spells that stop fire from hurting them.”

“My rage?” Michael questioned, thoroughly confused and inching away from the inferno in front of them, _seriously_ wanting to just leave.

Gavin nodded, the enthusiastic one he usually only used for talking about his bow: “You won't believe how magical your rage is! It's one of the strongest I've ever seen! And Ry-”

Gavin cut himself off, like he always did whenever speaking of that person, a look that could only be described as longing on his face for a moment, before he continued: “I've met someone who's a master of the arcane arts and even their magic is not as powerful as your anger.”

“Yeah, okay, let's do this later, when I can actually process this shit,” Michael sighed, “how long until they come out?”

Gavin paused, thinking: “Not a lot, the ability to hold a spell that powerful is rare. Three minutes at most and that's only if they use all of their magic up. Not stupid enough to do that, I reckon.”

To pass the time, Michael asked: “So you learn magic from that master?”

“He use to be my mentor. Tried to teach me how to create a magical light and I burnt down the forest while it was raining,” Gavin laughed and Michael didn't have the heart to call out the fact that it sounded broken, nor to ask anything else of the master mage.

The rest of the wait was quiet until Michael asked his companion: “How do we know that they'll leave from this side?”

Gavin froze, not having thought of that, and Michael couldn’t help but laugh, barely gasping out a “you dumb bitch” before he was on the ground, tears of laughter in his eyes. Maybe a little bit from the pain too.

If there were, no one had to know.

* * *

After Gavin had been a member of Rooster Teeth for well over a year and a member of Achievement Hunter for two, as they counted of the day Geoff met Gavin as the day he joined, their team got an important mission. The most important, if Burnie was to be believed.

Ray couldn't understand why Gavin refused to look at anyone once he discovered that their mission was to kill the Mad King and why Burnie kept stealing concerned glances towards the archer.

When Burnie dismissed them, Ray heard a whispered “I'm sorry”, saw Gavin's shoulders sag even further and wondered why he felt scared to find out.

* * *

Jack, bless his soul for not noticing the weird behaviour that Gavin exhibited, said immediately after the left the room: “I have a plan.”

To which Gavin swallowed and turned towards the older man: “So do I.”

“What's yours?” the man asked curiously, knowing that Gavin's plans were usually ingenious and very dangerous but rarely did Gavin actually admit to _having_ a plan, he just did them.

“Well,” Gavin started, “there's a hidden passage that leads right into the castle. But the king will know that we're there. Which he will no matter which way we go in.”

Geoff crossed his arms, thinking: “I understand the latter, he was known as the Arcane King before being known as the Mad one, but it's the first I'm a little fuzzy on.”

The others turning to him made Gavin almost gulp for air and he turned his eyes away from them, staring at the wall to his right: “I never did explain why I was dying when Geoff found me, right?”

That got their attention, Ray's eyes alight with curiosity as he asked: “No, you always refused to, will you now?”

Gavin nodded, still just staring at the bricks: “After I left, wait, no, after I was told to leave by my teacher, I joined another guild before Rooster Teeth.”

“Which one?”

“They never really had a name but people called them Creepers.”

“Those lunatics with the grenades?” Michael questioned, unable to help himself.

“Yeah,” Gavin winced, “those lunatics.”

“Oh. Shit, sorry, Gav.”

“Now that you mention it,” Jack mused, “I've always wondered what those red capsules on your belt did. That explains it.”

“After a while, I left. The day you found me, they did as well. Turns out, they're not okay with deserters, especially ones that have equipment. It's just my luck that they sent one of the few who liked me, as they let me have mine, a way of saying that they respect me,” Gavin continued, barely even pausing to breathe.

“That's interesting and all but,” Ray frowned, “what does that have anything to do with the hidden entrance?”

“Oh, right,” Gavin coughed, “we use to have missions to kill someone in the castle sometimes.”

“Oh,” was all that Ray said in response, the words he wanted to say stuck in the back of his throat.

 _You're forgetting that I was an assassin for_ way _longer than you were. I know when you're lying, Gav._

* * *

The hidden passageway was, according to Gavin, on the south end of the walls that surrounded the huge city, despite the fact that the castle was on the other side. Gavin insisted it was right, however, so the Hunters just shrugged and went along with it.

Arriving where the passage was supposed to be, Michael huffed, watching Gavin scrabble to find the stupid thing.

Finally, after what was maybe five minutes, Gavin yelled in excitement: “Found it!”

“Sure?” Geoff asked from his spot on the floor, “because I don't want to stand up again just to find out that it was wrong like the last _three thousand_ fucking times!”

“The bricks all look the same!” Gavin defended, “but I really found it this time.”

Michael was the first to stand, with Ray following, and the two men walked towards their last lad, frowning at the simple brick in in his hands, Michael looked at the other man: “Yeah, okay, explain this to me. I went to public school.”

Gavin laughed about something under his breath but waited until their two older members joined until he spoke: “It's magic.”

And just like that, the brick glowed, not like an uncomfortable glow that they had to close their eyes for but more like a candle, a weird candle, true, but a candle. Gavin grinned at them, taking in their awed faces before placing the brick back where he took it.

Nothing happened for a very long moment, long enough for Michael to open his mouth, but the moment he started to speak, the ground started to swallow them, like they were standing quicksand.

“Don't move,” Gavin advised, “it'll be longer if you struggle. Which is weird, considering quicksand is the exact opposite but Ryan was always good at being weird.”

Then he shut up, just like he realised that he finally told them the name of his mentor, but Michael didn't have enough calmness inside his body to think that through.

You know, because the ground was _swallowing him_. Nothing big. Fuck Gavin. Fuck him with an old cactus. Not just the tip though, the whole fucking thing inside of him, the fucker deserved it.

“Michael,” Gavin called, “Michael, what are you doing?”

Michael blinked and suddenly realised he was floating above the rest of the guys, his legs not inside the quicksand.

“Michael, the brick works as a teleporter and the destination is different every time,” Gavin explained, the tone hinting just how much he didn't want to lose sight of _his boi_.

“Well, great, _now_ you mention that. And it's not like I can control this!” Michael tried to ignore the anger bubbling inside of him but it was fucking impossible.

“Can you turn upside down?” Gav asked after moment of consideration.

“I think so, why?”

“Try it,” after a look of this-is-stupid to his best friend, Michael slowly, oh so fucking slowly, turned around until he was upside down, feeling dizzy, and Gavin's stupid face was in front of him.

“Now what?”

“This,” Gavin grinned his dumb I'm-a-motherfucker-and-I-know-it grin and, holy shit, they were going to kiss from the way Gavin was suddenly so close.

The instant their mouths touched, Michael plummeted and he barely had time to register that the ground was swallowing him before everything went dark.

* * *

The moment Michael awoke and saw Gavin above him, he wanted to both continue the kiss and to hit the guy, because seriously, what a fucking _asshole_ move, he had his stupid hopes up for a moment too, damn it.

So, really, it was Gavin's own fault that when Michael awoke the first thing he did was kiss him. But Gavin, the clumsy asshole he was, fell down _on top_ of Michael and it hurt like a _bitch_. Did Gav have metal elbows or something? Not to mention the fact that they landed on his fucking stomach so it was hard to breathe.

“Hey, Michael,” Gav whispered when they broke apart, “I took your breath away.”

Michael laughed and shoved his best friend off: “Shut up.”

“You also fell for him,” Geoff commentated with a hint of a smile in his tone, though something about it or maybe his body language made Michael think he was hurt.

So, of course, he went to check, ever the good subordinate: “Did you hurt yourself?”

Geoff shook his head: “No one got hurt, you just lost conscientiousness, being the only one who came here head first.”

“So, what was that _about_?” Michael turned towards the man he just kissed.

“Your anger made you float so I had to get rid of it,” Gavin smiled, maybe a small bit shyly, “so I kissed you.”

Michael shook his head: “Kinda glad you didn't give me a chance to choose who I would kiss.”

“Why?”

“Because I could never choose,” but, when Michael grinned, he made sure to make it teasing, no one needed to know just how true that was.

“Oh, don't be stupid, you would choose Geoff hands down,” Ray laughed, though even he seemed kind of _off_.

Michael wondered why.

* * *

They landed in a hallway that went both ways but Gavin seemed to know which way was to the castle so they followed him.

After a while though, the quietness of the hallway forced Michael to talk, if only because it reminded him too much of his nightmares: “I wonder why the king turned mad.”

Gavin turned towards him faster than ever before: “Why?”

“It's just,” Michael frowned, trying to explain, “I kind of remember him as the Arcane King? Like, Zebye has these festivals, and he always came for the winter one. Something about loving the special ale? Anyway, he use to tell stories to the kids, about the boy in green and his companion.”

Gavin tensed but otherwise didn't say anything, just continued walking: “I was sick a lot then so I missed most of the festivals, but I remember some, the first few stories were always of the boy in green and then just turned into whatever the kids wanted to hear.”

“I just don't understand, if he was always mad, why would he spend time telling stories to village kids?” Michael huffed, thoroughly annoyed.

Geoff sighed: “I know, man, when I was a knight we use to go out drinking all the time. He seemed all right then.”

Ray and Jack shared a look, confused, before Ray spoke up: “I've never actually thought why.”

They descended into another silence, one worse than the one Michael had tried to chase away.

* * *

The hallway was always the same, the same brown carpet, the same white walls and ceiling, Michael thought he was slowly turning insane from both the scenery and quietness.

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” he finally exclaimed, “this is fucking bullshit. The other side of the city is not that far way, especially considering we've been walking in a straight line the _whole_ fucking time.”

So Michael stared at the wall next to him and wondered: _What if?_

He did what he had then, he punched the wall. Nothing happened, of course, the wall remained the same and-

Oh.

His arm wasn't hurting.

“Are you fucking shitting me?” Michael forced himself to be angrier, for the rage to absolutely _control_ him but nothing happened and he was just so _annoyed_.

“Michael?” Jack walked up to him, grabbing the younger man's hand and frowned, “it isn't-”

“Yeah,” somehow just the touch they shared drew the anger out of Michael and he almost wished he cared but Jack hands were really warm and soft.

“So anyone have any idea why Michael's hand isn't bleeding or bruised or something?” Ray asked, eyes wary, not leaving Gavin's form.

“My guess?” Geoff shrugged, “the king doesn't want us to find him but doesn't care enough to do anything so he trapped us inside an illusion.”

Then he frowned, looking like he was trying to remember something: “Lindsay once told me that a great way to break an illusion is to imagine where you are in real life.”

Gavin shook his head: “We don't know where we are in real life. Teleporter, remember?”

Michael stared at the wall, and wondered why he could break something like that the first time so he asked that of the only person who knew magic in the group: “Hey, Gav, how did I break it the first time?”

“Your magic was more powerful,” was the answer.

He had to be angrier, Michael decided, trying to find a trigger for it. Usually it happened when someone got hurt, right?

So he imagined Geoff bleeding out, imagined it was done by the Mad King, imagined that Geoff's hair was covered in blood, in clumps, imagined that there was a knife in his skull, imagined wide white eyes, imagined that his armour was in chucks and that some of it was piercing his body, imagined Geoff's own sword entering his chest, imagined that Geoff was dead but felt like he could be even angrier and _more_ grief driven so he imagined the rest of the guys beside Geoff, each with a gruesome death of their own, and anger clouded his whole _essence_.

He didn't even touch anything, just the _presence_ of his anger made the whole illusion break and as the shards of the illusion had no wounds to enter into, they just disappeared.

“Michael!” he heard faintly, and nearly thought of lashing out but then there were soft, warm hands on top of his own shaking ones and he deflated. Just like that, all of his anger left him feeling empty, staring into the concerned eyes of Jack.

It was probably the part of his mind that still believed in what he forced it to accept as reality but somehow his lips ended up against Jack's, seeking contact to prove he was real.

Kissing Jack made Michael have a new appreciation for beards (and how attractive Jack was when he melted into a kiss) and when they broke apart, Jack's eyes wide and confused, Michael stared in the direction of the nearest person who wasn't Jack, because he needed to make sure they were all alive.

It just happened to be Ray, who was saying something but the only thing Michael heard was the voice he remembered as the Arcane King's, describing him their deaths in gruesome details.

So when their mouths touched, Ray's mouth was open and, yeah, there was tongue.

When Michael started to move away, he paused, as Ray's arms were wrapped around the back of his neck and Michael _really_ wanted to kiss the younger man again.

(Not that he didn't want to do the same with Jack, but he was too shocked to hold Michael in one spot for the younger man to realise that.)

But he forced himself away from Ray and walked right into Gavin, who just smiled and their kiss more of a quick press of their mouths but Michael thought it was perfect.

Gavin pushed Michael towards Geoff, who was looking confused (and kind of interested but mostly confused), and their kiss made Michael's knees buckle and when Michael moved away, Geoff's mouth followed his own and Michael just really loved those guys.

So fucking what if he kissed them? He could always explain the kisses as proof to himself that they were all alive, all still fine and no one needed to know that his crush on all of them was _maybe_ the reason he sought kisses instead of just contact.

But it seemed like he didn't need to say that after all because Geoff muttered a “you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that to one of you,” to which the rest agreed.

So Michael smiled, happy to have his team be _his_ team.

* * *

Gavin led them in a direction for maybe thirty minutes at most, something that Michael grumbled at because, damn it, how could have Gavin not have noticed that the hallway was too long in the illusion, before they came across a statue made of marble and seemed to be of a man in robes, the face shadowed by it's hood.

And Michael wasn't certain what he thought would happen but it wasn't the statue moving and saying “Gavin, hello!” in a vaguely familiar voice.

The voice made him think of the colour of green and his home town but he forced those thoughts away and listened to Gavin talking to the statue: “May we enter?”

The sculpture paused: “He did say not to let you in though, Gav.”

“Please, for me?”

“If you help him I guess I can let you in, but only then.”

“I planned to.”

“Then, of course, you and your friends can enter,” the statue's voice sounded like it was smiling but Michael wondered why it also seemed disappointed.

“Thank you,” Gavin smiled and Michael wasn't even surprised when the wall behind the statue slowly started to split until it was big enough for all of the Hunters to get through easily.

As soon as the last of them, Ray, entered the other side, the wall closed with a deafening _bang_ that most of them jumped at.

The new room looked more like it was a part of the castle, and the lower part as well, maybe next to the dungeon. But Gavin didn't even look around before he was walking in the direction of the stairwells that went down, not up.

The others shared a look, mostly of confusion, before they followed their, um, teammate-boyfriend-friend. Yeah, they really needed to work that out, Michael decided.

It as probably not the best thing to do in enemy territory but, fuck it, Michael needed a distraction: “So, what are we exactly?”

When Geoff asked “a team?”, while Ray answered “you mean like fuckbuddy wise or?” _probably_ jokingly and Jack “boyfriends” completely seriously, Michael knew that the discussion was very much needed.

“Oh, that,” Geoff coughed, “yeah, boyfriends.”

Ray just giggled maniacally under his breath whilst Gavin smiled fondly and Michael knew that all of them thought they were boyfriends and that was all that mattered.

* * *

Entering the king's throne room seemed like it was so far in the future during the whole mission that when they were actually in front of it, Michael felt like it was too soon. Like he hadn't had time to prepare for it, despite the fact that he had spent half a day packing for the trip.

Geoff's hand landed on his shoulder and he didn't even have to say anything, just a squeeze was enough for Michael's worries to melt away.

The door flew open with a bang, the doors slamming into the walls on the inside of the throne room.

To be honest, when he imagined the room, he expected there to be sculls and blood everywhere but that wasn't the case, it was just an empty room with just one chair in the middle of it and, sitting on it, was the Mad King.

Somehow he managed to seem both mad yet still have the same attractiveness Michael always thought he had when he told his stories, but something felt like it was missing. Maybe it was the smile he always had when speaking of the child in green but something about his red eyes seemed different.

Maybe they lacked kindness he possessed back then?

“Hello,” the Mad King smiled, one that seemed to promise pain, taking them in with his eyes, before stopping on his Gavin or, specifically, his scarf, the stupid green thing he never took off, “I never thought I would see you again. Well, no, that's wrong, he thought so, I knew better.”

Glancing at Gavin, Michael was surprised to note that while the archer's hands were clenched, his eyes held nothing but slight longing and sadness, maybe a bit of regret thrown in there.

“So,” the Mad King continued, “you think you can kill me? That's the best joke I've ever heard.”

Ray acted first, throwing one of his knives, trying to see if the king was paying attention and, apparently, he was because the knife stopped mid-air before turning around and flying back, faster than Ray had thrown it. He had to jump out of the way, something that the King seemed to have counted on because a moment before Ray fell on the floor, the area where he would land was on fire. But, the instant he fell, the fire was suddenly out and Michael turned in the direction of Gavin, who looked just as confused as Michael did, weren't they the only two who were magical on their team?

The Mad King's eyes narrowed, maybe even flashed colours but it was kind of too far to see, before Ray was trapped by his own daggers to the floor and the king looked even more annoyed, muttering something along the lines of “you can't save them all” but Michael had already accepted that he was insane so he just went into a defensive position, knowing that attacking a mage head on was stupid in every way, especially one that was far away and powerful.

Geoff and Jack didn't seem to think so, considering that they were getting ready to attack, whilst Gavin's eyes were calculating but he still reached into his quiver and took out an arrow. So Michael sighed, wondering if the king had used his magic to make it impossible to get Ray off the ground because the youngest member was kind of their best fighter, not that the rest were bad. He just had a habit of making them eat dirt.

Jack's war-axe had never looked so terrifying, Michael mused, not that Mogar or Geoff's sword were shabby, but Jack rarely fought, preferring to be the brains of the group, so Michael started to associate the war-axe with danger and, really, that should be a bad thing but it just made him feel safer, knowing Jack had his back, not that he didn't when he chose not to fight, they were all always ready to jump into a fight if one of them got hurt.

Jack and Geoff attacked the moment that Gavin's first arrow flew towards the King, who didn't even move before it came back, just like it had with Ray but Gavin had more room and could just sidestep, which he did as he took another arrow from his quiver.

There was an art to Jack and Geoff's movements, Michael knew, but he ignored that in favour of trying to figure out how to get the daggers off Ray, Mogar sheathed, the younger man's eyes closed and he wasn't moving, probably because of the magic that held the daggers in place, feeling like Jack, Gavin and Geoff could at least distract the king long enough for Michael to do his thing.

And, just like he thought in the beginning, they were stuck there with magic, he almost cursed before remembering the illusion, how his anger had broken something that the king, the same one who trapped Ray, had created. If he just...

But he really didn't want that to happen again, didn't want to come back from the anger needing to make certain the others were safe, he couldn't do that during a battle but he also couldn’t leave Ray laying there.

So he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and remembered how Lindsay once told him that “magic is either genetic, which will then focus on one aspect of your personality, Michael, or learned” and thought of the location his anger started from, his heart, thought of the increased heartbeat when angry, thought of the colour of Lindsay's hair, thought of anything that he ever did when angry and was surprised to note that his hands were glowing a pleasant colour of red (the same shade as Lindsay's hair) when his eyes opened.

He didn't think of how odd it was, he didn't think of anything other than getting Ray off the floor and those daggers off of his boyfriend, and, one by one, started to easily pull them out.

As soon as the last dagger was out, Ray's eyes opened and he grinned, slightly weakly: “That was so cool. Wish I wasn't unconscious for most of it.”

But, when Michael held out his hand for Ray to take, he shook his head and got up on his own, blinking a bit before turning back to the battle between their other boys and the king, frowning when he realised that Jack and Geoff were covered in small scratches, Ray cracked his knuckles (just for fucking show too, Michael smiled) and made some sort of joke that flew over Michael's head before entering the fight, a dagger and his sword in hand.

Michael stared at his hands and sighed, not really surprised when he saw regular hands, before taking out Mogar once again, finally entering the fray.

* * *

The first to get hurt enough to not get up for a while was Geoff, when the king used his magic to throw him against a pillar, while Jack got a head injury not long after Geoff's incident, which was understandable, they had to fight the king together and keep him off of Michael and Ray for as long as Michael took to help Ray with only Gavin as support, they would tire after a while, even if their support increased.

So it was only the lads fighting against the Mad King and, really, the odds should be in their favour but they _weren't_. The Mad King was winning and they knew it.  
(Technically if Gavin used his magic and so did Michael it would change the tide of battle but Michael's quota for the day was done, he'd tried already, and Gavin just seemed to refuse to.)

When Ray asked them if they wanted to do Plan G, Gavin frowned, not mentioning it was a team name like he usually did whenever the plan came into consideration, and nodded, whilst Michael shrugged, just wanting _something_ to work, wondering how the king had so much magic, to fight all of the lads, the gents and all of them together and still not break a sweat.

The point of Plan G was that it was their last resort plan, the one only they knew, to make certain their two gents got out alive, no matter what. So bodily harm to them and death were accepted as part of it, the only thing that mattered was that their target was dead and the gents fine.

So Michael didn't even hesitate to attack the king from the front, whilst Ray sneaked up from the behind, Gavin acting as the backup, like he usually did.

* * *

It started when Gavin noticed the way that sometimes the king's eyes would flash before one of the lads would get really close, and then they would flash again and the man would be flung aside. If he concentrated on the eyes just enough during the flashes, he could see that it went from red to blue, and the first time he realised what the colour was, he miss-shot and almost hit Michael but it allowed Ray to get a hit on the king so he was forgiven.

So when the Mad King stumbled, eyes staying completely blue as he stared at Ray, Gavin cursed, trying to find something, _what_ , he didn't know, so when he found himself taking off his scarf and stabbing an arrow through it, Gavin could only think of how stupid he was being before the arrow flew, his most prized possession with it.

The arrow landed head first right at the feet of the king, who stared at it for a long moment, during which his eyes shifted only once, before taking the scarf between his fingers, pulling it off the projectile and slowly wrapping it around his neck, and Gavin kind of hated himself for liking how he looked with it on.

Michael and Ray kept glancing between Gavin and the king, but the moment the Mad King moved, they shifted their attention to the target. The king just frowned, staring at his fingers before moving closer to Michael, who moved the tip of his sword so when the king got close enough, it touched exactly the spot where his heart lay.

The Mad King smiled, except he felt less like the Mad King by the second. Because Gavin would recognise that smile anywhere and he would recognise the shade of eye colour no matter what. So when the king moved the sword, uncaring of his hands becoming bloody from the sharpness of it, Gavin found himself moving closer until he was almost close enough to touch him, by that time the king had unwrapped Gavin's scarf and the blade almost touching his neck.

“You hate me, right?” oh, _fucking hell_ , he even sounded more like the king Gavin called his own.

When Michael nodded, the king smiled, a mix between his Mad King one and the one Gavin knew: “Kill me.”

Michael's eyes widened but he didn't move, not to take the sword away, not to kill, and Gavin's king's smile turned impatient: “If you won't, I'll kill so many more than I have already. You know it, I know it. We all know that I was winning so I'm asking for a compromise that'll help both of us.”

Michael hesitated for a little bit too long, it seemed, because the king huffed and suddenly the blade was close enough to cut skin and all Gavin saw was red. Red like the blood on his king's hand.

“No!” he didn't think of the fact that his mission was to kill the man, the only thing he could think of was that his mentor was going to fucking kill himself, and they were on the floor, with Gavin on top, before he even registered what he'd done. Thankfully, the cut on his king's neck seemed to be minimal and, oh wow, why were both of them crying?

“Damn it,” Gavin laughed, trying to force the blurriness in his eyes away, “I thought I could do this.”

“Gavin,” his king frowned, ignoring his wet eyes altogether, “I don't think either of us wants for you to do it. Just let him kill me.”

“No!” Gavin shook his head, protesting, “your eyes are blue again! I won't lose you after just getting you back.”

“Gavin, I don't think you realise what would happen should he return.”

“He?” Michael asked, eyes curious and betrayed but otherwise his sword pointed in just Gavin's king's direction, not Gavin's.

The king's eyes turned in the direction of the ceiling: “He likes to be called Edgar.”

Gavin paused, eyes clouded, before asking in a whisper: “That's the name of the demon, right? You were in the tower an awfully long time and when you returned you said that the test was a success and that its name was Edgar.”

The king nodded: “Yeah.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ray butted in, “let's go back a few notches because I'm kinda lost.”

“Yeah, that would be _peachy_ , wouldn't it be, Gavin?” Michael scowled.

Gavin didn't even seem to notice anything other this his king: “His name is Ryan.”

“Like, your mentor Ryan or what?”

“Yeah, he taught me,” Gavin, for the first time, looked away from his king, in Michael's direction, “he was the one to give me the scarf!”

“Oh,” Michael’s scowl deepened, “that's fucking _great_ , Gav.”

“I never knew that it doesn't get bloody though, that was a nice addition,” Gavin mused.

“Why won't it get bloody?” Ryan questioned, trying to very gently get Gavin off him.

“It won't get wet or dirty,” Ray shrugged, unlike Michael, his weapons ready to attack both Gav and his king. If he would or could do it was a completely different subject

“That's not something I added,” Ryan frowned, “maybe Caleb?”

“Now that you mention it,” Gavin mused, “Caleb did say that one of his projects was a scarf that he enchanted to absorb magic. And mine only started to do that after I met someone who used a spell that stopped me from getting wet.”

“So how did you meet Ryan then?” Ray asked, not even noticing that his weapons lowered slightly.

“He found me after I set fire to my home town.”

“So you're a genetic magic user?” Michael questioned, honestly curious about the answer.

“Yup! It's top.”

Michael just shook his head.

“So, let's get this straight, you met Ryan as a child or teenager or whatever, I don't fucking give a shit at this point, and he was possessed by a fucking demon. And suddenly at the sight of your scarf, something that he has seen today at least once before the time when he suddenly wasn't possessed, the one he gave you, he was cured. And that's not weird and convenient in any fucking way,” Michael's eyes narrowed and it was probably good that his quota for anger-magic was done for the day but his quota for bullshit sure as hell wasn't.

“Um,” Gavin paused before turning to his king, “so what did happen?”

“Well, the whole battle I was fighting Edgar, little-by-little forcing his own magic against him to lock him away, no matter how short of a time, I just needed enough time for you to kill me, the moment I touched the scarf, the, shall we lock, was locked. I assume it's one of the few things it has picked up over the years?”

Gavin paused: “I can't think of anything. It would have to be a strengthener.”

“Well, what could it be? Strengthener seems very vague,” Ray offered.

“There's the possibility of a genetical's blood in huge amounts if it locked a demon away-”

“That's it!” Gavin cheered, “we used that as a bandage when Geoff first found me. And the wound opened somewhere in the forest. It hurt a lot.”

Michael just huffed, utterly baffled that those stupid motherfuckers were just taking someone's, especially the fucking Mad King's, word for it.

* * *

They were dumb, Michael decided, all fucking five of them. Because after Geoff and Jack awoke, they just let the king live only because Gavin vouched for him. The king disagreed, saying something about Edgar returning and he wouldn't stop wearing Gavin dumbass scarf as a precaution.

Michael wished he could agree with the king but, fuck it all, he was funny and attractive and Michael felt like he was cheating on his boyfriends whenever around him. Which was dumb as shit but he still tried not to spend too much time with him.

Geoff was in change of calling in an expert on possession so not only didn't Michael know who that was, he didn't know how long he had to spend in the Mad King's castle. Which, as someone who liked the freedom to do whatever he wished, really made his mood plummet. He spent most of his time in the courtyard, with the knights who were just glad that the king stopped sending them out to kill random people when he felt like it, teaching them some of the tricks he knew, which was actually pretty dumb considering that the Mad King had the possibility of returning, but he needed to let out some steam.

It was another such day when he was just about to blow a fuse because of that one _fucking_ knight who liked to be shit just to mess with him, when Ryan's entrance caused the knights to all fall in line, something that Michael rolled his eyes at.

“Michael!” Ryan smiled, “I didn't expect to see you here.”

“Bullshit,” was Michael's answer, like it always was when Ryan came around, “I never leave.”

“True. Geoff wishes to see you,” the king informed him.

“Really?” despite the question, Michael still started to move in the direction of the castle, “so he sent the fucking _king_?”

Ryan laughed, falling into Michael's quick pace easily: “I'm not allowed to be king until Edgar is gone. And, probably, until my powers are bound.”

Michael paused in his steps, something that Ryan raised an eyebrow at, so Michael started to move at a faster pace: “That's interesting.”

 _You'll be defenceless and you know it. Without Edgar, without your magic. You'll be killed within a month because of the people who would blame you,_ but the words tasted bitter on his tongue so he swallowed them down.

* * *

As it turned out Geoff wanted them because the expert had arrived and apparently it was a king from another country, something that Michael didn't really get but whatever, if it helped Ryan he was fucking fine with everything.

King Monty took one look at Ryan before saying: “So you _were_ possessed. I had my suspicions.”

Michael wished he would get on with it already, he left those shitty knights alone with sharp swords, who knew what they would do. What if they killed each other? Michael would have to find new knights!

Monty then turned towards Geoff with the strangest look on his face: “You can leave now.”

Michael protested before anyone could: “Oh, no, no, no, I'm not moving from this spot.”

His boys and Ryan looked at him strangely but Monty seemed to understand: “I know how much trust you'll have to put in a stranger for this but, trust me, it's better this way.”

Michael's hands clenched and he muttered “if something happens, I'll completely skin you alive, king or no” before walking out of the room, back to where his knights were actually fucking training. Michael had a moment of pride before one of them fell on his face and the Hunter sighed and had to explain the whole fucking move to him all over again.

* * *

As it turned out Ryan was fine, Edgarless, and the moment he first heard it, Michael smiled but couldn't help but be kind of dejected at leaving the castle. At some point the knights had become his, just like his team was, and he would really miss watching them screw up and the feeling of pride he got when they got moves right for the first time.

(And maybe because he had started to like Ryan's company at some point.)

So the night he heard the news, he asked “when are we leaving?” at the dinner table, trying to handle the whole situation like a bandaid. The whole fucking table froze, his boys and Ryan, like they just realised that, yes, the Hunters would have to leave. Their mission was long over and probably failed too.

“Haven't thought of it,” Geoff replied, “how about...”

He trailed off and Michael hated himself for wishing that he would say “forever” but, damn it, he needed to see Lindsay and let her deal with the emotional baggage of the whole situation. She wouldn't actually, when Michael thought of it, but it made him feel better, talking to her.

So he quickly estimated the time she would be on her own mission and asked: “How about the end of the week?”

Gavin paused, like he was thinking of Lindsay as well: “So we'd return a day before Lindsay would?”

Michael only nodded, not looking in Ryan's direction because he had the worst kicked puppy expression in the world, the first glance had proved.

* * *

The end of the week came by too fast, in Michael's opinion, but he told himself to fucking suck it up, he was an adult, he had to deal with leaving his, um, friend/technically former enemy/very attractive, funny acquaintance.

Fuck it, whatever Ryan was, he had to leave Ryan and his knights.

It sucked but so did life, what the fuck ever.

So, yeah, he sulked on Sunday, he sulked so much that his knights started throwing rocks at him, the assholes.

But no one objected to them leaving, not Ryan, who still didn't know if his magic would be bound, not his boys, not his knights and definitely not Michael.

The Hunters left on Sunday without a single goodbye and Michael lied to himself about the reason why he felt disappointed.

(Gavin was wearing his green scarf, something he wasn't wearing the day before, so Michael assumed that he got to say at least a goodbye and hated himself for being jealous.)

* * *

The next time Michael saw Ryan, he was on a mission alone, only planing to stay in the city for the night in the closest inn to the gates.

But, of course, one of his knights saw him, grinned and yelled so loud that Michael was certain everyone in the city heard: “Mogar's back!”

Immediately afterwards the road was fucking blocked by the row of solders who heard the scream, all with smiles on their faces and straight backs like they couldn't help themselves.

Michael blinked: “At ease.”

When they all relaxed one of the knights, Michael thought his name might have been Chris but he was kind of fuzzy on the details, practically jumped towards Michael and hugged him tightly: “It's good to have you back! Dan's a slave-driver and that's saying a lot, considering everything you forced us to do.”

The hug ended before Michael could even react and he barely had the time to spit out a “what the fuck are you doing?” before Chris, yeah, Michael was pretty certain his name was Chris, was dragging him towards the castle with the fucking tightest grip on Michael's wrist he had ever experienced, holy shit, he would feel proud except he was pretty convinced the blood flow to his wrist was cut off.

* * *

The moment Ryan saw Michael his face lit up, something that Brandon, one of the knights, “aww”ed at, Michael hit him on the shoulder with enough force for him to fall on the floor. There were lots of comical “oww”s, shouts of “Mogar, you traitor”s and Michael kind of never wanted to leave.

“Michael,” Ryan walked up to him, “I wasn't expecting to see you here.”

Michael smiled.

“Bullshit. I never left.”

**Author's Note:**

> davie wanted to read it so i thought why not go all the way and this happened.


End file.
